


No regret for the confidence betrayed; No more hiding in shadow

by Aleonoria



Category: CSI: NY, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Competent Tony DiNozzo, Gen, Gibbs' Rules, Still not beta-read, Tony leaves NCIS, Translation, slight Bashing of MCRT
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleonoria/pseuds/Aleonoria
Summary: It all started with a one-shot...Which became a translation as a gift to the wonderful hellbells and now it's a collection of more or less connected one-shots.All of them have as the baseline, that Tony has enough and leaves MCRT and NCIS because he no longer is willing to endure the behavior of his colleagues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellbells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbells/gifts).
  * A translation of [Bevor ich mich selbst verliere](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11838924) by [Aleonoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleonoria/pseuds/Aleonoria). 



> Because English is only my second language, if you find mistakes just tell. I don't bite.

I recently rethought my idea and came to a decision. I'm not making a series out of it, rather a multi-chapter with unconnected one-shots, all of which are somehow / kinda based on the first story.

 

**The chapters so far are:**

  * Chapter one: Before I lose myself
  * Chapter two: The family reunion



 

**Ideas I'm working on:**

  * Rule #38
  * I'm dreaming of a white city
  * Closure ≠ Conviction
  * The real Tony DiNozzo _\- will refer in parts to the chapter "The family reunion"_
  * Something strange happens in the city that never sleeps



 

I'll post something as soon as I have finished it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point even the most loyal person has enough...  
> Tony has reached a point where he can no longer cope with the situation in MCRT and NCIS and is therefore looking for the only possible way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This translation is a gift for Hellbells because the stories in Tony’s Little Black Book always make my day and remind me why I once loved NCIS.

 

 

A good, an attentive observer would have seen how the man’s fingers stiffened around the pen in his right hand and only could be loosened with force. With every word coming from the young woman with dark brown hair opposite him, or from the young man with slightly chubby facial features to his right, his fingers tightened more and more. Meanwhile so much that his knuckles stood out and he heard the plastic of his pencil cracking. Already a few hours ago, when he had arrived late to work he had guessed that this would not be his day. But what his colleagues and alleged friends were doing was almost too much. When the pen cracked again, he dropped it, stood up with a jerk and walked quickly to the washroom. There he leaned on the basin, after he had drained a little water on his face to calm him, and recalled the day so far.

 

~. ~

 

Nervously he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, adjusting the strap of his backpack. The morning had just started terribly. At first his alarm had not worked properly, then the water had not become warm for a long time – he made a mental note to finally take the time to write to his landlord – and then he had also to realize with horror that he had forgotten to collect his suits and shirts from the cleaner’s. Doubtfully he looked down on himself. The blue jeans were not completely torn, although already had seen better days, and the sweater, well if he was honest with himself then it was probably not his best idea to put on his old college sweater. But the alternative would have been to be even later and perhaps he’d still have an emergency shirt in the filing cabinet behind his desk. In this case he would simply quickly change the top because jeans and shirt were considered acceptable, especially given that his direct boss was always wearing polo shirts and jeans.  
Relief appeared in the man’s green eyes as the lift finally stopped on his floor. He squinted at the watch on his wrist and sighed. More than an hour late; he was so screwed.  
When the doors opened and he wanted to leave he looked directly at his boss. The presence of his team colleagues made it clear that the older had not been on his way to get a new coffee, something that was as important to him as the air to breathe.  
“Good morning, Boss”, he said, feeling even more uncomfortable with every second under the stern look of blue eyes. “Listen, I…”  
“I don’t want to hear your excuse, DiNozzo”, the other growled at him. “Because we had all of them already in different combinations at least ten times this year.” He entered, followed by the other team members, who could only with difficulty restrain to grin. “When we get back, we’ll talk.”  
“Yeah, Boss”, Tony said crestfallen, knowing that he’d really deserved the telling-off for his often to late-arriving.  
“And we’ll talk about that, too”, Gibbs said, his gaze clearly drifting over the younger man’s figure.  
‘So much for _Pimp my outfit_ ’, Tony thought desperately, while the smirks of McGee and David grew wider. Life was just not fair.  
“Where we goin’, Boss?”  
“Would you have been on time, Tony, you would know.” McGee could never resist digs against the other and today was just too perfect. First had Tony been too late and then in an outfit as if he was on his way to play football in the park with his frat brothers. The younger agent knew that Tony had to be extremely careful what to say or do. Because already two weeks prior Tony had brought Gibbs with his behaviour to the point that this had again threatened to fire him and one thing was sure for McGee and everyone he talked to: for whatever reason Gibbs had brought Tony to the team and was still keeping him, the worm has turned and the boss would soon do all the things he up to now only had threatened with.

 

Arrived at the crime scene and actually busy with the assignments Gibbs had given in his typical taciturn style, David and McGee kept looking at Tony with a smug grin. He was less annoyed by the fact that he had been given the task of bag’n’tag, but that he wasn’t the one to make the crime scene’s sketch as usual. This meant that either David or McGee would daub something on the paper and he had to try to correct it after the end of work. Because if he did not, it was a sure thing that Gibbs would rip him a new one as the sketches normally were his job; regardless if he had decided differently. Tony knew for sure that he would take some pictures with his mobile before they’ll leave the scene. He silently thanked his frat brother Adam who had created an app for automatic measurement of rooms and sceneries in his spare time. They had not met each other at university, but in a fraternity, and when you also work in similar branches, you give each other a leg up. And particularly in the field of computer-assisted and computer-based investigations nobody could compete with Adam; not even Mr. MITGee.  
He grimaced, avoiding grinning, and started to catalogue and pick up all the relevant traces as quickly and carefully as possible. David and McGee may try to pretend to work; he would really do it even if they would again get the laurels for it. Justice for the victim was more important. While he was moving around the crime scene, his mobile already attached to the outside of his jeans pocket and doing the necessary measurements, a thought bothered him incessantly. The scene seemed familiar to him, but he was not completely sure, and he didn’t want bother Gibbs with an uncertain notion. Not with the mood his boss was currently in.

 

Back at the headquarters had Tony quickly taken his emergency shirt and the evidence down to Abby and while he changed in her ballistics lab David, McGee and Gibbs were in the autopsy to pick up a preliminary report. Therefore was he already back at his desk when the three returned and was busy entering the data from his mobile into the computer so that he would faster be able to make the sketch at the end of the day, but simultaneously he tried to remember why the crime scene had been so familiar to him. But since the answer continuously slipped away, he pushed the question aside and decided to do his part of research regarding the victim’s life. He had to prevent that Gibbs found another reason to sort him out.

 

It happened during the compulsory sitrep, Gibbs as always with a mug of coffee in his hand behind Tony, David and McGee, while they reported what they had learned in the past few hours.  
When they had all told what they knew Tony looked more closely at the big screen with the crime scene photos and as it flashed through his mind he lightly tilted his head.  
He knew this scene from his time in Baltimore! The victim there had been attacked and murdered during her way home. It had been one of his first cases after the change from vice to homicide and ten years had passed since then. So, no wonder that he had not directly remembered this case. With a glint in his eyes he turned around and looked at his boss.  
“You know, that reminds me of…” But he could not get any further because Gibbs head-slapped him which caused his head to move painfully forward.  
“Nobody is interested in your stupid movies. Work properly or grab your things and go”, Gibbs snarled at him and David and McGee could hardly keep a straight face. It was always just too priceless when Tony received a damper from Gibbs and today it seemed as if Tony was begging for them. He should really know by now that Gibbs was not one for film allusions, and even Ducky was always interrupted in his stories, so why did he try it at all? Tony looked at his boss with narrowed eyes, turned around and sat down. If the older did not want to hear what he had to say, he would just do the things as usual: activate one of his contacts and present the facts in the end. Had worked so far and he knew it would also work this time.  
So he let everything go in one ear and out the other, ignoring the noises and meaningless chatter and wrote an e-mail to an old colleague in Baltimore asking if they could have a look into the file and then give him a brief overview of the case. Then they might be able to compare the cases and thus determine whether he was correct with his guess.

 

“So, Tony”, only when David’s voice sounded nearer than it would if she was still on her desk he looked up and discovered that Gibbs had left the team’s area, in which his colleagues took advantage of and derived pleasure from his rotten day, “out of which bed were you kicked this morning? Do you even know her name?”  
“Oh come on, Ziva”, McGee interrupted. “You can’t ask Tony to perform such intellectual feats. I mean, he has a sports degree, but he hadn’t achieved more, besides a really useless knowledge about films he doesn’t really have something productively to contribute to his environment. Although, if one of us should end in a game show and happen to stuck at a question about films then one could definitely call Tony. But apart from this, I don’t know.”  
“You’re right”, answered David. “I mean, it’s quite significant that he was the last one Gibbs got back into the team; and that likely just because he couldn’t longer stand Tony’s whining about his stay on the boat.”  
“It was a ship”, corrected McGee gently, but grinned nastily in Tony’s direction. Who was now completely torn out of his concentration and could not prevent that his fingers tightened again and again around his pen. He tried to find his calm again and not become loud or go berserk; because with his luck Gibbs would just then come back and blame him. To keep quit, not to reveal his true mood, to conceal his true face this was something he had learned early in his life. But he slowly noticed how it got harder and harder to maintain his behaviour in the office.  
When his pen emitted a rather dangerous crack he dropped it on the table, got up and went quickly to the toilet. It did not matter whether McGee and David notched this as a win for themselves. He had not gone ape-shit and that was good.

 

~. ~

 

When he came back he could see from far that Gibbs had not yet returned which the two youngest of the team took full advantage of in having a private chat instead of dealing with the current case. For which he would be blamed … again. He could already feel how Gibbs would head-slap him, so he ran across his neck.  
“Well it’s only a matter of time until everyone saw how DiNozzo really is”, heard he the clear voice of his partner. “I mean someone not able to accept a simple assignment, especially given by the Director, won’t be successful in anything else.”  
“He refused a mission?” McGee asked puzzled. But more about the fact that someone thought Tony was capable enough than about the rejection itself.  
“Yes, Jenny had told me while we’re on the plane to L.A. and DiNozzo was shamelessly flirting with the flight attendant. It was only the case of following an arms dealer to get enough information that put him behind bars. But DiNozzo couldn’t even do that.”  
His chest tightened painfully and he had to lean against the wall. So was that. He rejected an immoral, highly questionable, and probably even not sanctioned order and was therefore made out to be a coward by his superiors? As someone who could not do his job and his colleagues believed this portrayal without flinching? He shook his head, and ran with a hand through the hair. That’s it! He had been trying to keep this team, this alleged family running long enough; had ensured that the cases were handled properly and wouldn’t fall down around their ears. But that was over now! He would no longer protect McGreenhorn and MissMossadistheworldsbest. From nobody! And while they were trying to explain their mistakes and clean them up he would look around for a new job. NCIS would not get more of his soul. He nodded decisively, straightened his shoulders and then went back to his seat, mentally going through all that he would change in the future so that finally everyone would see how McGee and David really were.  
When he saw the flashing cursor in the case reports document, a slim smile crept on his lips. Oh, that would be so fun.

 

~. ~

 

Sitting leaned back comfortably in his chair and playing with a pencil Tony watched the show that took place between the team’s desks and could hardly prevent the amusing grin.  
“Officer David, this is the fifth report in four weeks which was sent back to us from JAG because of inadequacy. Clear this! Agent McGee, were you ever at FLETC? All these files are bursting with incorrect entries and wrong ways of proceeding. Correct that or you can explain to JAG why two killers and a rapist are released due to procedural errors. Agent DiNozzo”, he straightened up and looked at Agent Lee, who had been sent to them as the representative of the legal department, as she knew the team as his former probie. David and McGee raised their heads hoping that he too would be reprimanded, but were disappointed with the next statement. “JAG let tell you that they are very grateful for the additional indication to further inappropriate behaviour of the accused. This means that his defender has no longer any argumentation possibilities.”  
Tony nodded slowly with an honest smile. “Was as always a pleasure to me, Agent Lee.”  
She returned the gesture, then gave McGee and David an icy look while leaving the team’s area.  
“I don’t understand why they suddenly have such a problem with my reports”, David pouted.  
“Or my files”, McGee added. “Usually everything was flawless.”  
Unable to ignore this intro Tony stood up and finished getting ready for the evening. Michelle had timed her appearance perfectly. He could go home while McGee and David had to stay. But first he would clarify a few things.  
“Do you know why? Because I’ve always eradicate your crap. I was the one who stayed longer in the evening, sometimes even whole nights to fix your mistakes. I finished the files while you enjoyed your free time and then I’d to hear the next morning that I was probably again with some woman whose name I hardly know. As if! Really ace investigators are you, if you don’t even notice that in the months of Gibbs’ absence I wore sometimes the same things for days. But maybe you thought that I’d flop into the bed of some woman and from there straight back to the office. Far from it! While you’d a nice time, I’ve been here almost permanently and have taken over your tasks. But hey, because of this extra work I now know Hebrew. So, thanks for that, Ziva. I don’t know how you could ever believe that writing the reports in anything but English would ever be accepted, but some additional education can never hurt. My CV is slowly getting really long.” He said the last sentence almost dreamily.  
“I wouldn’t call two entries long.” McGee dared to throw in which brought him a cold look from Tony.  
“Don’t conclude from you to others, McConceited. Have you ever read the prerequisites for the SFA at NCIS? There is something like a master’s degree in it. Just like several years of experience as LEO.” Tony tipped his chin, fake pensively. “The experience as LEO I’ve because of the time with the police in Peoria, Philly and Baltimore. Therefore, the question of the master’s degree remains. Oh”, he gave himself shocked and clutched his heart. “I’ve even got two!”  
McGee looked astonished at Ziva, but the Israeli only gave a pejorative snort. “Probably something trivial as music.”  
“Oh contraire, mon assassine” Tony straightened, ignoring the fact that not only the returned Gibbs but the entire bullpen followed the conversation. “I’ve graduated OSU with a bachelor’s degree in sport science and microbiology, while also studying film and art sciences as a subsidiary. Oh and McGee, before you turn up your nose again, the OSU has for years been one of the top 20 public universities of the States, so much for the inferiority of my degree. And while recovering from my broken leg and damaged knee and working to finance my studies because of losing my scholarship due to my injuries I still belonged to the best 5% of my year. But we’re talking about my master’s.” Tony faced McGee who had been the most pejorative regards Tony’s studies in recent years. “As I said, I have two: in criminology and forensics from the Northeastern. So let me recapitulate: 2 ½ bachelor degrees and two master’s, of which sport science requires a lot of medical and criminology a lot of legal basic knowledge. Accordingly, I have not only more, but also more far-reaching and more qualifying degrees than both of you combined!”  
“So you, that you failed to finish your studies”, said David and Tony turned to her, bewildered.  
“This is how all that has stuck with you? For your information, I didn’t submit that thesis at the time, although finished, because I started to concentrate on my way into law enforcement.”  


“DiNozzo, stop bragging and get back to work.”  
Tony raised an eyebrow; Gibbs’ statement was even for him extremely far from the truth.  
“Really, Gibbs? I’m just about to explain to David and McGee why I no longer would keep their part of rule 45. They should do it themselves. But maybe I’m asking too much, because Tony the idiot is to blame for everything and to be used for anything.”  
Tony noticed how his last inhibition broke. Apparently today was the day to do some straight talking to the team.  
“What do you want to say?” Gibbs stepped closer and Tony knew exactly why he did that. He wanted to intimidate his vis-á-vis and to come within reach for a head-slap. But not today! Not anymore.  
“You know, Gibbs. Somehow … I’ve always had my problems with some of your rules. Not only do they partly cancel each other out, but in the last few years they have been repeatedly been broken by all of you. Apart from me who has like a lunatic tried to maintain them, only to hear at least once a praise.”  
“That’s not true!” Gibbs tried to fight back.  
“No? _Never waste good / Never take anything for granted / Don’t wait for something, take care of it yourself / Always work as a team / When you need help, ask / Never believe what you’re told, double check / Never assume anything._ But most important: _Never screw over your partner!_ I could also mention _Never be late_ or _Never get involved personally in a case_. But then I would incriminate myself. So let’s leave it at the other eight; eight of your precious rules that you as well as David as well as McGee have broken numerous times. But does one ever hear an excuse from you? No, of course not! Because then one would break the valuable number six. But should I tell you something? To ask for forgiveness or to say I’m sorry is not a sign of weakness. On the contrary! It requires a lot of strength to recognize and to admit that one has made a mistake. Only those who are so convinced of themselves and their abilities that they are almost blind of arrogance believe that this is a weakness. Well, you know what? A person who holds his own rules higher than the laws of the country he had sworn to defend, but breaks them at every offered opportunity, is in my opinion absolutely presumptuous, hypocritical and not worthy of any further thoughts. Because he will one day get the just deserts for his behaviour.” Tony turned around and put his badge on his old desk, took a letter out of the top drawer which had been lying there for weeks and placed it next to the shield. As he felt a movement behind him, he spun around quickly and caught Gibbs’ hand, which was on its way to the back of his head, with ease. “If you touch me again only once, I’ll sue you for bodily injury! I’ve put up with your games long enough. But not anymore! I quit!”  
Tony turned toward the elevator and wanted to leave when Gibbs’ voiced aroused with caustic tone behind him. “And where are you going to go? The Feebs? Have you really sunk so deep? You know you can’t live without a job with the way of life you’ve.”  


Tony pressed the button for the elevator and looked back one last time. He would so not miss the orange.  
“Do you remember a few years ago, when Kate and McGee were so amused by the fact that I’d tried to reach an English attorney and then had to learn that Crispian insisted on the repayment of the borrowed money? Well, Uncle Clive had left me also something. He was one of the few in my family who didn’t see me as Senior’s doppelganger or successor, and I wasn’t upset about not getting something but that Crispian was so greedy that he also wanted the money with which Uncle Clive had supported my studies. The old man should have expressed himself more clearly in his will. But hey, who am I to complain? And who wants to pick an argument with an English Lord? Should Crispian try to keep the estate and properties in top shape.” When the elevator doors opened behind him, he pretended to make a stage bow and smiled mockingly. “Godspeed or not, that doesn’t bother me a lot.” He made a step back and as soon as the doors where closed he started to smile. Somehow he felt lighter.

 

When Tony had arrived at home, he stored his gun in the small table next to the sofa as usual, then went to the minibar in his built-in cupboard and poured himself a small glass of the whiskey he had bought during his last vacation in Ireland. The 30-year-old drink was something that he allowed himself from time to time when he had an extremely long and exhausting day. Normally that was enough, but he knew that today he would need more to find his inner balance again. Even if it had been absolutely necessary what had happened at NCIS, one did not resign a job of eight years just like that. So he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, went through the room to the window front and sat down on the stool of the one item he had inherited from his mother and that hadn’t been made to money by Senior.  
The clearest picture he had of his mother was how she sat at the black grand and played for him. That was why her portrait photo always stood on the instrument and when he played, he always imagined that she would listen. He put his glass on a coaster, opened the keyboard cover and began with some finger exercises. He noticed that he was a little rusty but also that his fingers flitted more and more easily over the keys the longer he played. At the same time he became calmer and more relaxed and decided to savour the silence as long it would continue. He suspected that his termination would still cause some turmoil. For some reason some people at NCIS believed that they had the right to decide about his life; just as if he was a little, dependant boy. So he was sure that it would not be long that one of them appeared in his apartment as locked doors seemed not to constitute any obstacles for any of them. But he wouldn’t let disturb him with this thoughts at the moment and just continued to play.

He had just finished the first movement of Beethoven’s [Moonlight Sonata](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oENaefcQ3qs) and started to play de Sennevilles [Mariage d’amour](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FoCG-WNsZio) – his favourite piece – , when he heard a noise at his door and had to supress a sigh. But he did not let himself be distracted. Whoever interfered with his privacy had to come to terms with his new, his true self, and that was far from beer pong, wet t-shirt contests and spring break parties.  
“What makes you think, that you can just resign?”  
“Hello Abby”, he greeted without interrupting his play. He heard her stamp her foot, because if there was one thing that Abby Sciuto could absolutely not stand then was it to be ignored. But apparently she had not come alone, because instead of storming through the room and giving him a not so gentle slap on the arm which had been her normal way, she stomped again. Someone had held her back.  
“Stop acting like you know how to play the piano. Here is no one you might impress with that. Turn around and explain how you got the idea you could just leave.” Tony turned his head a bit, seeing Abby being held at the arm by Ducky. Somehow he should have guessed that the good doctor would accompany the forensic. He looked back at his mother’s picture, sadly smiling. It was time to get back to the person she had wished for. The person he had been up to Kate’s entry in the team. Abbys whining and at the same time angry voice got him back from his thoughts. “Gibbs is really angry. Tony, you have to do something!”  
Now he stopped playing and finally turned to Abby and Ducky.  
“Oh, and what? Should I continue to work 60 hours and more per week so that the cases wouldn’t fall down around our ears? Take the rap for McGee’s and David’s mistakes? Sacrifice myself, piece by piece, without ever hearing one word of gratitude? Only ever to be told I wouldn’t be good enough, should that be my life?”  
“Nobody ever said that you’re not good enough.” She incensed.  
“No?” trying to keep his calm, he closed the keyboard cover and stood up. “You’re not Gibbs, Tony. Gibbs would do this differently, Tony. That’s for boss in training, Tony. Well, Miss Sciuto, does that ring any bells? All of that I got to hear from you and the others during Gibbs’ time out. During these four months no one ever asked me how I was doing; how I felt to lose a mentor and in some ways a friend. But unlike you I used that time to think about myself and what I saw I didn’t really like at all.”  
“Well, well my boy”, Ducky began, but Tony interrupted him with a cold glare.  
“Don’t even try to start, Doctor Mallard! Not that you give again such a psychological misjudgement, as on the day you’ve diagnosed me a narcissistic personality disorder. I’m probably the one from the team who is the least fixated on himself.”  
“That’s not true”, Abby rebelled. “The Bossman…”  
“Gibbs?” Tony laughed bitterly. “Who only lets others work for himself, who harasses everyone and lives so in the past that he can’t solve any case alone? A likely story! I accept and understand that he needed time after the explosion. But any doctor with just a bit of expertise, hell, any sensible human being knows that one can cope with an amnesia best in a familiar, a safe environment. But what did Gibbs? Left us all in the lurch, did a runner to Mexico where he could pity himself, instead of thinking about how we others might feel. Yes, he had to get to know everyone again, but that would have gone a hell better here in DC! So, who’s your next example? McGee? Who believes he is the computer god himself but had been on several occasions the victim of credit card fraud and had only been able to find one of my bachelor degrees? Or maybe David, who hadn’t noticed that her boyfriend had constantly lied to her and exploited her and who is partly responsible for the death of Kate? No, Miss Sciuto, in the whole team were only two people who thought not only of themselves and had been constantly either ignored or belittled by everyone. No wonder, that Jimmy and I became such good friends.”  


“But, you don’t like him! You’d call him stupid names all the time.” Abby looked at him wide-eyed and he meant to see something accusingly in them.  
“Have you never thought that this is my way to tell someone that they mean something to me; that the term Probie, Gremlin, Lab-Bat, and most of the McIsmen were my way to express liking? But that only shows how wrong I was with everything. Because if I give someone a nickname, then that’s wrong; or considered as insult. But you’re allowed to do it. For you, it’s okay that our dear Doc here is called Ducky or that you welcome Gibbs with Silver Fox or Bossman. Just grasp it! This whole damn hypocrisy is the reason why I quit; additionally to the fact that no one has seen my skills as praiseworthy in the last years.” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched as she stomped her feet and went for the door.  
“Just wait, until I’ve spoken with Gibbs. He’ll then command you to return!”  
He laughed out loud and could see that she was honestly shocked by his reaction. He was so himself. Up to this day, such statement would really have put him in a mild panic; but apparently not anymore. Kind of freeing.  
“And when was the last time Gibbs respected the chain of command? Or did his subordinates remember that something like a chain of command does exist? The ranking inside a team is clearly defined: SSA, SFA, Special Agent, Agent, Junior Agent, Probationary Agent, possible Liaisons. That means that actually McGee as well as David was my subordinate. But, have they only once held this? Has Gibbs only once made them accountable for insubordination? No! He sits there, lets everyone do his work and smiles about the fact that his deputy is put down by the others. Thank you very much! But actually, it’s no wonder. He doesn’t adhere to it either. How often has he not done what Vance or Shepard had told him. Or how often had he shown that he had no respect for them? The last director that could give Gibbs commands at least now and then had been Morrow! Everyone else bows to Gibbs inhuman machinations. You can still partake in that if you like, but not me. I’ve finally enough and would rather bring myself to safety before I no longer recognize myself.”  
He saw that Abby wanted to launch into another tirade, but apparently had Ducky realized the futility of their visit and laid a calming hand on her arm. Then he looked thoughtfully at the younger man.  
“Is there anything that we can say or do that would let you reverse your decision?”  
Tony could only laugh coldly. “So that you all feel better and I’ll remain the butt of everyone’s jokes? No, Doctor Mallard, that train has left many years ago. I’ve only needed until now to realize that I’m the one who has to change something, who has to come off. I did it and now accept my decision at last.”  
He turned around and looked out of the window. After a few moments he heard first a quiet “I’m sorry, my boy”, then his apartment door and then he leaned his head against the window and sighed. Burning bridges down had always hurt. But never before he had stayed that long in a place and had given so much off himself. But differently to Peoria, Philly and Baltimore he had gotten this time nothing in return. There he had been send-off by his superiors and most colleagues with honest regret. And at NCIS they all only seem to see their own gain.  
He pushed himself off the window frame and decided that after whiskey and playing the piano had been only moderately successful, he would start the next relaxation method. This would be effective, absolutely certain!

 

Annoyed turned Tony away from the stove, on which several pots were simmering, and looked to his mobile that had just started to ring a few moments ago. He knew that in fact it couldn’t be one from NCIS because he had almost immediately blocked those numbers, with a few exceptions. When he saw the number on the display he frowned. What did Fornell want from him? Intrigued he answered the phone.  
“Listen, Tone”, greeted the older, “I don’t call as FBI Agent, rather as your cousin.”  
With a small smile Tony recalled this eventful meeting. Apparently was law enforcement part of belonging to the family. Just was his father the only one standing on the other side of the law and had therefore broken off the contact with everyone else and had been disowned by them. This had happened even before Tony’s birth, so some had seen him long time as his father’s heir and wouldn’t have to do anything with him or they knew nothing of him. Therefore it had been a true revelation when he had been invited to the reunion and had there realized that he had relatives in almost every area of the American alphabet soup, and even in the British and Italian secret service. He had immediately recognized that this would make future cooperation so much easier. After he and Fornell had overcome their initial shock that they had the same ancestors, a long talk had followed and so became Tobs, how Tony liked to call the older, his source within the FBI and vice versa – without Gibbs’ knowledge. That they had fun with this fact was undeniable. “So, Tone, how are you?”  
“I’m cooking”, he answered honestly, “and I mean that both literally and figuratively.”  
Out of the phone came a long-drawn sigh before the older “Shoot” said.  
Tony took this invitation with pleasure and told his cousin everything that had happened recently and that had let to his termination. “Well, and that, Tobs, is the reason why I’m standing in my kitchen backing and cooking so much that Nonna DiNozzo would be envious. So be prepared that later today or tomorrow at the latest a delivery will reach you.”  
“That’ll make Diane and Emily very happy”, smirked Tobias and Tony had to laugh. Somehow significant that he had no problem with Gibbs’ ex-wife, in contrast to this himself. “Okay, jokes aside. I won’t offer you a job”, Tobias said, after he had thought through everything his cousin had said, “because I know it wouldn’t go well to work for an agency that had suspected you for murder. But maybe you should think about reactivating the DiNozzo-Network.”  
When the two men had said their goodbyes Tony thought long about the suggestion the other had made, then he nodded firmly. Even if his ex-colleagues had always laughed over the close relationship he had with his frat brothers and even had made derisive remarks about it, it was not to be denied that it always had brought him advantages, apart from the little episode with Kate a few years ago. For that he had let peter out his contacts. But he would change that now.  
Looking to the pots if the contents would handle without him for a few moments he then went to the living room, started his private laptop and wrote an email to the distribution list with the simple content “I’m back on the job hunt”. If anyone in the various local groups knew something they would answer. After all, if he was honest with himself, he would not even be too picky concerning a different city.

 

Tony was just about to give the young courier, because of the sparse growth of beard he estimated him not older than 23, the food delivery for the Fornells and declared that everything in the green bag was for him – instead of a tip – what gained him, after a quick look in said bag, a more than grateful “Wow, thank you, Sir”, when he saw a more than well-known figure down the hallway. Figures, that Sciuto and Mallard had not been the last who would try to persuade him to return to NCIS. He stepped aside, thus making clear to Gibbs that he should enter and then said goodbye to the courier who said with a broad grin that he wouldn’t mind to make trips for him in the future – with that payment. Tony had to snicker, all too well remembering his own college time and how much he now couldn’t stand instant meals. Since that time he was a huge fan of pre-cook, deep-freeze and heat it up later; even if his ex-colleagues had a complete different image of him; as with so many things.

When he had closed the door and stepped into his living room he saw something that tested his hard-earned calm immensely. As if he was at his Gibbs had gone without hesitation to the cupboard and had poured himself a glass of whiskey. And not how it should be only a few sips, the glass was almost full. With gritted teeth went Tony to the older agent, took the bottle out of his hand and put it away.  
“You know, Gibbs, that what you’re drinking is a luxury good and not an object of addiction. Unlike that cheap booze you’re used to pour in jam jars in your basement.”  
“Bourbon is bourbon”, said Gibbs and took another sip from the glass, “although this here tastes kind of strange.”  
“What you’re downing in one is 30-year-old original Irish Whiskey!” Tony answered. “Of course it tastes different!” He took a deep breath, not wanting to get into the mood where he would need another session in the kitchen. “Why are you here, Gibbs? Certainly not for a discussion about alcoholic beverages.”  
Gibbs just shrugged and Tony feared that the other would long not start talking. As he liked to say, he was someone who brought taciturnity to championship.  
“I want to know why you left without my permission.”  
“Your permission?” Tony laughed incredulously. “As if I would need the approval of anyone when I decide that I can’t longer endure the current working environment and that I need a change.”  
“If you’re slacking and are in need of vacation then say it. Instead of running away like you did”, grunted Gibbs and Tony couldn’t believe that the older was already bending everything like he liked it best. But maybe this visit was good for something. Maybe he should use this opportunity to clarify some things; perhaps it would make things better for other agents. So he used a little trick to safely close the door to the whiskey, walked through the room and sat down on the dark sofa. Relaxed leaning back he looked seriously at the grey-haired.  


“You know, Gibbs, you and I have very different ideas about how to run an investigation. I live by the motto ‘Work smarter, not harder’ and have been so far always successful. You, however, work your subordinates into the ground until they almost collapse. Bloody hell, Stan even got an ulcer because of you; that alone should already be a warning signal. But in your mind he was not able to work for you. But honestly, what you’re doing verges on slavery; which is in my knowledge illegal in this country.” His ex-boss wanted to interrupt, but Tony just went on. “What do you think how often have we broken the health and safety regulations because of you? There is something like required break-times but to you that doesn’t mean something; at least not when it concerns others. You, you’re allowed to get regularly new coffee, but woe if any of us dared even to want to eat something. How many times ended my lunch in the trash because you thought that it wasn’t important? Newsflash Gibbs: with an empty stomach one can’t work! I can’t even count how many times I suffered from circulatory problems due to hunger. That I hadn’t developed a distinct eating disorder is really a miracle. But surely it’s my entire fault. I’m weak, useless and hardly useful for anything other than as scapegoat. I’m to blame if hints weren’t found or that cases weren’t solved quickly enough. Well, then you’ve got exactly what you wanted. I will no longer hinder you. After all, I’m a cop, from the bottom of my heart and with full consciousness, but it seems that neither of you does want that; at least not anymore. My knowledge, my skills were and are in recent years always ridiculed and considered as not important. Well, we’ll see how the MCRT solves its cases in the future and disputes them in court; so without any real investigators.” He grinned at a thought that would truly put all off. “Not to mention all my informants and sources and the fact that none of you will be able to communicate correctly with LEO’s and local authorities. But, of course, I just overvalue it all again. After all, I’m good for nothing.”  
Gibbs tightened his grip on the glass, and Tony was afraid that he soon would also have to clear away these shards too, but after a deep breath the hand relaxed a little. Since his opposite still made no move to answer something Tony leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and looked to his former superior. He really hoped he would somehow get through to him. For those who would succeed him.  
“I thought the time aboard the Seahawk was bad, but that was nothing compared to what was going on here the last few months. But it should have been a wake up call when I was the last one to be returned to the team and then only because of a joint case. After all, everyone seems to believe that I was incapable of accepting a direct order. Well, surprise, I have something like a sense of honour and unsanctioned ops I refuse on principle.” Gibbs looked at him in surprise and Tony shook sadly his head. “Your lovely ex wanted me to go undercover while at the same time leading the MCRT. Hey, I’m totally into undercover ops, as long there is nothing rotten with them and what Jenny wanted me to do stank thousand miles against the wind. To be someone else and seduce an innocent person in the absurd hope that that’ll lead to the weapons dealing father and thinking this wouldn’t blow up around ones ears because you still have a full-time job with uncertain working hours. Tell me, Gibbs, would you have accepted this operation?” His ex-boss shook his head reflexively and Tony nodded. “You see, me neither. So maybe you should make it clear to McGee und David that there’s a huge difference between absurd and uncertain.”  
This seemed to be finally successful, because Gibbs took another long sip and then cocked his head.  
“When I talk to McGee and Ziva, if I get them to respect you would you then come back?”  


Tony laughed incredulously. “Have you been listening to me at all? I’ll tell you what I told Sciuto and Mallard when they’d been here. This train is long time gone. I was just too proud and too bloody loyal to recognize that McGee and David would never change. And Vance had an opinion of me after two minutes, which by the way is so extremely far from the truth that it might enter the realm of myths. So the question we should all ask is not why now but rather why not earlier? For example when you thought it to be a good idea to put me in a body bag as distraction. Don’t get me wrong, I had been in agreement with the plan and don’t have a problem with that fact. But I have an extreme problem with you calling me in the fullest knowledge the Feebs would notice it. Would it have been so hard to wait half an hour or until I’d be back in the office? No, it wouldn’t! But that just shows the core of all problems. Do you know how many times I got injured in my time as a cop? Four times in a total of eight years; and nothing of it really grievous. The sad thing is I can’t count anymore how often I’ve been shot since joining the NCIS; how often I’ve something partially fractured or sprained. Not to mention the bruises or the fact that I caught the fucking plague! However, what really bothers me is that none of you ever ask me how I’m doing. From the moment I’m back to work, you seem to think that everything is fine again. No one of you seems to ever think about long-term consequences. Bloody hell, Gibbs! Each cold could be my death!”  
The older man looked at him thoughtfully out of his blue eyes, then placed the glass without much ado on the piano, which he studied briefly, then he just shrugged.  
“That’s just once again your typical way of exaggerating, DiNozzo. If that really were the truth I’d know.”  
“Exaggeration?! Shall I show you the exact point in my medical record at which more than clearly is written that pneumonia as cause of death is at increased risk because of my scarred lungs? That I can no longer do as much sport as I like because of another knee injury? That the next blow to this particular spot at the back of my head could possibly lead to damage my eardrum? All this is in my file, Gibbs. If you’d really care that much about me, you’d kept up to date. But since Kate joined our team I and my position were increasingly undermined. From you, Jenny, Vance and of course do the younger agents follow that lead and wonder rather how I could ever join NCIS or why I haven’t been fired long ago. The only ones who really stood by me were those agents knowing me long time or those who bothered to look behind all those facades and carping.” Tony took a deep breath, got up, went to the piano and looked pensively out of the window. “But, do you know what my biggest problem is? That I don’t know what else might have happened. McGee and David seem to have got from you the freedom to do whatever they want. It seems they can do whatever whenever they want and weren’t hold accountable for anything; neither from you nor from Vance. They probably would have left me at some point without back-up in the field, declaring it as a joke and would have got away with that, without any consequences. I won’t put up with that. Not any more.” He turned to Gibbs, who looked at him for a few more moments but then turned around and left without another word. Tony sighed briefly, then pursed his lips and shrugged. “Well, that went great.”  
He picked the glass up, wiped with his shirt quickly over the wood and after he brought the glass into the kitchen and got something to eat, he settled down on the sofa again. He looked at the TV and shook his head, no that he wasn’t currently up for. He fumbled for the remote to his music collection and started it on random play. Now that he had the time to do it again he would indulge in his next favourite activity and so he took out his tablet and opened one of the many subscribed scientific journals.

 

The ring tone that announced that he had received a message from one of his frat brothers pulled him hours later out of an interesting article about the possible occurrence of paranoid schizophrenia due to drug use in combination with PTSD. He took his phone from the table, unlocked the screen and read with increasing interest the tip about a free post which seemed to be made just for him. A relieved smile appeared on his face and looking to his mother’s picture on the piano he whispered: “I’m coming home.”

 

~. ~

 

Since the hint about the free post almost three weeks had passed. During this time also McGee and David had visited him trying to guilt talk him so that he would return to NCIS. True to the motto “You can’t allow that the poor victims won’t get justice”. Eventually he had enough. He had called his mate Will and asked him if he could stay with him for some time. His answer had been that as long as he could deal with Grace and Jack’s occasional outbursts, he would be welcomed any time. Tony had shaken his head and meant that as long Will would stop the crazy Grace of hitting on him there won’t be any problems. The idea to say that he was a solid Kinsey six was deemed as not feasible because Grace and Jack also knew him from university – although not as good as Will. This had promised to do his best to keep Grace and her assistant Karen in control. So Tony had packed some things, including his best Zegna and had set off in his mustang with the destination New York, but not without setting his alarm system on the highest level. Should it not be him who entered the apartment or shouldn’t the right code be entered within 20 seconds a sound would start reminiscent the WWII air-raid warning. Some would call it exaggeration but he saw it as entirely appropriate given the fact that his former colleagues believed that they could get away with anything.

 

When he arrived in New York, Will greeted him at the apartment door with a huge smile, an embrace and the news that Grace had spontaneously decided that she needed a creative break in Hawaii and would maybe come back in a few weeks. Relieved returned Tony the embrace and was then shown the apartment. He liked Grace but sometimes was she just too strenuous and since he had a little jitter of the meeting the next week he truly preferred Will’s quieter character.

 

On the day of the interview he was about an hour early at Will’s dining table, which almost bent under the home-cooked breakfast, and tried not to become completely crazy. Only Will’s statement when seeing him was able to calm him at least a little.  
“Damn, Tony. I hereby issue the following decree: You’re in the future absolutely not allowed to wear a three-part Zegna in my apartment; unless I can unwrap you from it. You really don’t make it easy for a guy.”  
Tony turned to smile at him and the pensive expression with which he had looked out the window was gone for a brief moment.  
“God, Will. What if I screw it later? Even if I don’t have to work again directly, thanks Uncle Clive, but I want to work!”  
Will stepped up to him, straightened the still loosely-fitted tie’s knot and then cupped Tony’s face.  
“Tony, don’t think about what might happen, believe in your abilities. You’re good at what you do and I finally want to see you being happy. The guys there in Washington they broke you. I never knew what possessed you to become a Fed after Baltimore, even though I understand that you’d to leave. This is your chance to finally do again the one you’re born to. So get moving Downtown and show them what you can.” Tony hugged the other gratefully and gave him then a light kiss on the cheek; nothing unusual for the both of them. There were only few that knew how things truly were regarding his love life. Will was one of them as it had been him who had told Tony during his master’s program that it was absolutely stupid to forbid oneself something that was part of one. So Tony had finally accepted that he was more likely attracted by one’s character and less of their gender. Unfortunately, not many had wanted to understand that and so he would have hidden this side of him just as much as some things else. “Now go, before I really drag you to bed.”  
Laughing Tony put on his jacket and left with a wave the apartment.

 

The conversation had so far been clearly to everyone’s satisfaction and so it was a logically step to speak about the more exact job requirements.  
“Fact is we’re looking for someone able to work as Detective Flack’s partner in the major case department as well as being part of Detective Taylor’s team at CSI, with the main focus on the work with Detective Flack. I know it’s not ideal but budget requires this high wired act; or rather the search for someone who can dance on many weddings.”  
The younger man’s green eyes began to glisten what was a bit of a surprise because all the previous candidates had shied away from this requirements.  
“You’ll see, Sir, that you don’t have to look further. For I not only have years of experience as Detective and Federal Agent but also have degrees in criminology, forensics and microbiology; exactly what you need”, he paused a moment then showed a large but completely honest smile. “And what I don’t know yet, I’m absolutely willing to learn.”  
His interlocutor threw again a thoughtful and thorough look in the file that contained his complete CV.  
“You’re about to be promoted to the rank of a Detective 2nd Grade when you left Baltimore PD eight years ago and rose to Senior Field Agent and temporary team leader at NCIS in Washington.” Tony simply nodded, why answering to a simple stating of facts? “Why had you decided to leave NCIS?”  
“I felt that I needed the change. Don’t get me wrong, Sir. The time at the NCIS was an incredible experience. But I’ve perceived in the last time again and again that I’m a cop and as such I want to work again.”  
“And why the NYPD?”  
“Are you serious about that question, Sir?” When the other nodded, he straightened up. “The NYPD is one of the best police force in the world and I want to work with the best.”  
The Chief of Detectives tapped the fingertips for a few minutes and thought about what had been said. The truth was not to be dismissed. He looked at his neighbour who had remained silent during the whole conversation, but now nodded in agreement. He had the same feeling with the former agent in front of him as with the Detectives Messer and Monroe: he would do well in his team.  
Therefore he stood up with his superior and held out his hand.  
“Welcome to the NYPD, Detective DiNozzo.”

 

The End

 

 

 


	3. The familiy reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What? I'm related to him too?_ ... or ... Welcome to the conference of the American alphabet soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for everyone who asked "Who is Tony related to?"  
> And one sentence will be of importance in a later chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, if something doesn't make any sense at all, please tell. Because the betas I found aren't answering on my mails and so, this is not beta read at all.  
> Oh, and Italian is not a language I speak. The words used are the result of the use of online translators.

 

* * *

 

 

When he found the invitation – printed on obviously expensive paper – in his mailbox he first thought this to be a joke. The only reunions he was invited to were the biennial vacations with his fraternity from OSU and he didn’t have other noteworthy relatives. His mother’s family consisted only of Crispian and his rotten brood in England and the family on his father’s side did not exist, according to Senior. Senior always insisted that all grandparents and great-grandparents had died and that they all had been only children. An assertion that turned out to be as true as Senior’s statement he was an honest businessman, as it now seemed.

Even if he had doubted the truth of the invitation, Tony could neither throw it away nor forget its content.

_“We hereby are pleased to invite you to Famlia Amato’s this year's reunion.”_

This one sentence was followed with the naming of date, time and a hotel in Alexandria, which was obviously in the upper price range.

All this made him curious and a brief internet search revealed that the name Amato was carried by 7,413 people in Italy and had been the maiden name of his father’s mother. When further investigations revealed that Senior was by no means (as he claimed) an only child, Tony became more convinced that his sire was in all areas as fake as a thirty dollar bill. As it turned out, Senior was just the only son of five children. His parents had not been only children either. In fact, Anthony DiNozzo jr. was the first only child in his family in generations.

After staring at the invitation at breakfast for days, he reached a decision. He would go to that reunion and if only to find out why he did not know about his relatives for so long!

 

~.~ 

 

True to the promise that he had given himself, he stood in front of the _Alexandrian_ on the day of the reunion, nervously straightening the jacket of his suit. He had left the office only temporarily because his team was supposed to be working on a case. But McGee and David – those ungrateful and insubordinate upstarts who were meant to listen to what he told them as their acting team leader – had decided they didn’t have to come back after their early lunch break. He sighed. Whenever Gibbs wasn’t in the office, McGee and David became more and more rebellious. He knew the day was coming when they would go that far and either start discussing an order from him in the field or ignoring it outright. That should be the day he quit. But he couldn’t, didn’t want to start somewhere new again. Maybe he too was to some extent to blame for the whole situation. He had thought that if he at least made the atmosphere a bit more relaxed in the office, the horrors of what they saw out there would be easier to bear. But as it seemed, the others couldn’t see it that way. They only saw the man who was joking on the job, not seeing that he was trying to take the pressure off them, knowing that otherwise they would break down from all. He shook his head. No, he would get through this. Gibbs would come back and then normality would return to the office.

But that was not the point now. He would now enter this building, find out what this family was like and then decide whether they were worth staying in contact with or not. Then he would return to the office and work a few more hours. Otherwise the JAG would jump down his throat because the reports had been again insufficiently filled out.

“Not now”, he said quietly, shaking his head. “Now, for once, it’s about me.”

He took a deep breath and went into the building.

 

He entered the room where the reunion took place and soaked in the atmosphere of the room. It was already well filled and on one of the sofas on the front side he saw an elderly lady sitting, more than clearly holding court there. This had to be the matriarch Nonna Amato, his grandmother’s eldest sister. He walked towards her with steps trying to conceal his insecurity and waited with straight back for her to notice him, which she did rather quickly and beckoned him over.

“So, you’re DiNozzo’s son.”

“Yes, Matriarca.”

“Nana”, she made the sound that only older women were able to make to express their disapproval and patted his cheek. “I am your Nonna, even though I cannot proudly say that you are one of my grandchildren, you belong to the Familia.”

“Thank you, Nonna.”

She nodded majestically and waved to someone standing somewhere behind him. “You two will talk to each other and sort everything out, capito?”

Tony turned around and stared into the not less astonished eyes of no other than Tobias Fornell. However, he couldn’t resist the delight of realizing that he caught himself faster than the older agent and after a short nod towards Nonna, which was more like a little bow, he approached the FBI agent.

 

“Well”, he started and then laughed. “That’s so… We’re related?”

Fornell scratched his neck. “Must be, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, DiNotzo.”

Tony noticed the starting twitch of his eyebrow, as always when the older pronounced his surname that way, even if it slowly started to make sense. “Don’t you think it would be appropriate to cease the impersonality, given the circumstances?”

The other inclined his head and nodded. “Agreed, Tone.”

Tony grinned and asked the question that had come to his head the moment he saw the FBI agent. “Why didn’t I find your name in my research on the Amato family?”

Tobias laughed, it was so typical DiNotzo... No, he would treat the younger the way he truly deserved in the future. As long as nobody noticed it, but he would make sure that Tone knew what he really thought of him. That he had informed himself about the family simply corresponded to the younger's nature. He was an investigator with all his heart and soul who always wanted to know everything to be able to react appropriately. “When I wanted to start with the FBI, one simply had no chance as a male of Italian origin and coming from a certain area. It was rather expected that one stood on the other side of the law. Knowing that, but still wanting to pursue my dream, I officially changed my name from Fonelli to Fornell. My boss knew about it, but even when the circumstances changed, I kept the name. I was determined to go to major crimes. Cousin Dave had it easier with his profiles. The reason you didn't discover it was because the genealogical was only adjusted on my site.”

Tony stored this information in his head, even though he started a little fanboy dance inside. David Rossi was related to him?!!! The day was getting better and better!

“I should have known! These distortions of my name were more than a clear sign that you know the original Italian pronunciation.” Tony scratched his neck uneasily. “And what exactly are we now to each other?”

“Cousins, in the widest sense. My mother was the youngest sister of one of your grandmother’s brothers in law.”

Tony nodded, such a kinship ties counted only for Italians, and looked around the room, analyzing those present.

“So, these are all our cousins?”

Tobias nodded. “Yes, some more, some less. You know how it is with Italian families.”

“Not really”, Tony said bitterly. “Senior always said I didn't have a family except him and the snobby idiots in England who didn't want to talk to him.”

“Because they would have locked him up as soon as they met him”, Tobias said laughing. At Tony's questioning glance, he said, “When I' m not entirely wrong, one of your cousins is a Detective Sergeant or something.”

“A cop?! Tobs, you're kidding me.”

“Not at all”, Tobias said, accepting and embracing the nickname because he knew what was behind it when Tony awarded them. “As soon as you talk to the others here, you'll realize we have a lot in common.” At Tony's questioning look, he just winked at him and conspiratorially said, “Trust me.”

But then something at the door caught his attention and the ease disappeared from his posture. Tony, noticing the change, carefully moved his hand to the shoulder holster, which of course he hadn't taken off, as he intended to go back to the office afterwards.

“You all right, Tobs?”

“What the fuck is that Redcoat doing here? That can only mean trouble”, his conversation partner grumbled with a view to the door of the room. Relieved that it wasn't problems in the sense of immediate danger that were approaching him, Tony followed with interest how the young brunette woman came to him purposefully and seemingly ignored all the others. When she reached him, she looked up at him from below, smiled at him and shook his hand.

“Agent DiNozzo, nice to meet you. My name is Roxanne Morton and we have something in common.”

“And what would that be”, he asked with a raised eyebrow. This accent was more than just British, it was absolutely blue-blooded upper class.

“A great-grandfather and an aversion against the imbecile Crispian Paddington”, was her mischievous answer that made him laugh.

 

Tony couldn't resist the impression that Roxy's apparent upper-class carelessness hid so much more. But apparently nobody should know this, so after Tobias had left them at some point to look for his daughter who was roaming around somewhere in the room, he bent over to Roxy and said in a soft tone: “I dare to make a well-founded claim and say that your professional activity has little to do with fashion and that you fit into the whole alphabet soup here thematically.” She looked at him and nodded only very slightly, so slightly that you could have easily overlooked it. “But since no one seems to know that, I further think that it's more in the direction of the big C and the 5.”

“Not quite”, she honestly admitted, her voice could hardly be understood in the background noise. “We are a non-governmental organization.”

Tony frowned. That made no sense at all and offered so many opportunities for nonkosher machinations. “No surveillance by any organs?”

“Unfortunately”, she explained, “but luckily there have been some changes in the organizational structure lately. We are now under the authority of the Crown, but we are mostly able to act freely. Something that many of us like a lot more.” A soft ringing made her sigh and look at her mobile phone. “Tony, I have to go. But I want to tell you one more thing. I came here for two reasons. First, to show you that not all your English relatives are of the same type as cousin Crispian, and second... Your name was to be Antonio Nathaniel DiNozzo, in honour of your two origins, called Nathaniel. But your father ignored your mother when registering your name and turned you into Junior. I thought you should know. Might be useful at some point.”

She nodded to him and disappeared into the crowd. Leaving behind a completely confused Tony.

 

 

Not long after Roxy had left him, Tobias came back and guided Tony to one of the round tables where five other adults and Tobias daughter Emily were already sitting.

The introduction took place with one after the other putting his badge on the table and giving his name. An action that triggered a laughing fit in Tony. He shared the table with an FBI agent, a senior DOJ representative who was obviously directly related to Nonna Amato and had also the name for proof, a gruff and hard nosed appearing L.A.P.D. detective, a green behind the ears looking D.C.P.D. cop, a DEA agent and a DHS representative. The last two seemed petite, but Tony was far from underestimating the women in this profession. He shook his head, but decided to address the way of introduction later.

“You know”, he began as they waited for dessert to be served, “somehow I feel less like at a family reunion and more like at an American alphabet soup conference. Do you realize that the people on this table alone could take the concept of inter-agency cooperation to a whole new level?” When his table partners started laughing, he tilted his head. “Did I miss anything?”

In the end it was Tobias who caught himself first. “Tone, this cooperation already exists. The only ones who made it impossible to get NCIS on board were Gibbs and the Director. We've all realized for a long time that if we really want to eliminate the dangers, we have to stop trying to piss each other in the soup. The bad guys are getting smarter and smarter in a speed that we couldn't afford wasting time. Had we known earlier that you belonged to the Amato family we would have called you in long ago. But Senior is just a first-class bastard. Not only has he cut off all connections to all other relatives, he's also the only one standing on the other side of the line. And since he only ever spoke of Junior, some people have suspected that you are just like him. That's why it took so long until you found out about the family. But since you made a name for yourself as an honest, loyal and above all incorruptible LEO, even the last sceptics were finally silenced. Hence the invitation to this year's meeting.”

“So this circus takes place more often?”

“At least every two years", said Bonnie and Nancy laughingly added: “This is our chance to meet inconspicuously and exchange information.” When her cell phone, which she had lying on the table, rang she frowned. “Sorry, I have to answer that.”

“Job?” Tony asked.

“Unlikely”, she shook her head, “The number used to belong to my ex-husband.” When she got up, she accepted the call. “Sheppard here? Hold on John, I have to go out of the room for a second.”

 

A few moments later she came back, an unanalyzable expression on her face. “I'm sorry, but I have to go. Somehow my ex got involved in some stuff he couldn't get out of alone, which is surprising, since he's now a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force. But with John one never knows. Probably he has disobeyed another direct order and he is now threatened with the next degradation.”

“Should I call Alexandra? She might have a lot to do in New York, but she will gladly help you”, Henley Amato already reached for his mobile, always keeping an eye on the law, and since his niece (in the widest sense) was dealing with military law beside her normal work, it seemed only logical to him to call her.

Nancy shook her head. “No, I'm going to meet John briefly and then will plan further if necessary. Maybe it's not that dramatic, it's been amazingly quiet around him in recent years.” She put her cell in her handbag and nodded to everyone. “Tony, I enjoyed meeting you so much. And remember: _La famiglia è tutto._ _Famiglia sta insieme. La famiglia offre supporto. La famiglia ti guarda le spalle._[1] ”

Tony smiled. “I'm starting to learn that.”

“Good”, she waved to the group and after she had said goodbye to Nonna, she hurriedly left the hotel.

 

Tony sat back and relaxed on his chair and enjoyed his espresso as his own cell rang. He sighed. It would have been too nice. A glance at the display made him pause in amazement.

“Autopsy Gremlin, what's wrong? Excuse me? Wait that was David's part! Why does JAG want to talk to me now? She did WHAT?! No, Jimmy, sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. Tell the JAG I'm on my way. Just for information, who did they send? Oh, great. No, I can deal with him. If he gets upset, tell Rabb that he owes his freedom to me after all. You can do it, Jimmy Olsen. I have faith in you.”

He rose and looked apologetically into the round. “I'm sorry I have to leave you, but the people I thought were my team have screwed up again and I can now try to straighten everything out once again.”

Tobias looked compassionate. “So the Imps are still trying to prove they're better than you?”

“Every day anew and every day is a fight. I can't wait for Gibbs to come back from Mexico.”

“Which would only be halfway better”, said the older, but then he also stood and hugged Tony briefly. “If you need something, help or information or just someone to talk to, then you call, understood?”

Tony nodded, with a light lump in his throat that he didn't want to admit, said goodbye to Henley, Bonnie, Louie and Mark and, after talking to Nonna Amato again for a moment, went in the direction of the exit.

 

Tony had almost reached the exit when the conversation of a group standing near the door caught his attention. He just couldn't help it but when he heard the term “Rose Bowl” he just couldn't help getting interested.

“Well, I can't deny it”, said the man who seemed to be fit, despite his not quite slim stature. Wrestler was Tony's thought, he has the right stature to be a wrestler. “But the Wolverines’ Rose Bowl game against the Buckeyes is still one of the best in recent years, even though it's been some time. Today's players think far too much in order to play with the same commitment as back then. However, a few actions were hard on the limit.”

“Yes”, Tony interfered with a smile. “That was a pretty awesome game. Until Brad Pitt, unrelated to the actor, tore me to the ground and destroyed my knee. But I forgave him for ending my professional career the moment he treated me at Bethesda.”

The man turned around with big eyes. “Wait, you aren't really that Anthony DiNozzo Jr.? Final Four OSU player? Oh my God! Jinksy will be absolutely jealous!” The last sentence was said with not a little glee. He held out his hand. “Pete Lattimer. Pleased to meet you. But, I'd know if I was related to a famous sportsman. Well, confess! Where did you end up?”

Tony laughed. “NCIS, that stands for...”

“Naval Criminal Investigative Service. It's an honour.”

The change in Pete's posture was too clear not to be analysed and recognized by Tony. “Marine?”

“Retired, now I belong to a special department of the Secret Service.”

“As if the Secret Service wasn't special enough”, Tony joked and Pete grinned at him with a knowing smile.

“Jests can really shape your life.”

Tony smiled. It was a well-known fact that like and like recognize each other immediately. He reached into his inner pocket, pulled out a business card and handed it to Pete. “I have to go back to the office, but if you need anything. Get in touch.”

Pete nodded and expressed his regret that he could not be as generous with this offer due to the secrecy level of his work, but that it was really a pleasure for him.

 

When Tony had left the _Alexandrian_ , he took a deep breath, preparing inwardly for the chaos that would await him in the office, but also felt easier, knowing that his work would now become a lot easier. Although the DiNozzo network might be a bit rusty, the Amato network promised to be just as successful. Maybe even more.

Because as Nancy had so rightly said: _La famiglia è tutto._

 

 

* * *

 

 

If you are interested, here are the names of all relatives who are not OCs and from where I borrowed them:

Alexandra Borgia (Law and Order)

Bonnie Ryan (Criminal Minds)

Detective Lieutenant Louie Provenza (Major Crimes)

Pete Lattimer (Warehouse 13)

Dave Rossi (Criminal Minds)

Roxanne "Roxy" Morton (Kingsman)

Nancy Sheppard (Stargate Atlantis)

 

[1] “Family is everything. Family stands together. The family offers support. The family has your back.”

 

 


End file.
